


Mutant

by CheshireLies



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Zombiestuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 10:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireLies/pseuds/CheshireLies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dave Strider, and you think one of your best friends is dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutant

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't know how to write Dave at all iM SORRY)
> 
> inspired by this post: http://dreaming-decadence.tumblr.com/post/48678587595/dave-karkat-zombiestuck

Your name is Dave Strider, and for once in your life, you don't know what to do with your free time. The windows are boarded up and secured, there's a fresh stock of food in the fridge, and the door is barricaded. The only thing you really need to do is clean the blood off your clothes, because as rad as you look right this second, it'll probably start to smell in a few days. 

As you start for one of the jugs of water in the corner, your eye catches on your laptop. You haven't touched it in weeks, not since you tried to get a hold of John right after all of this started. 

Your hands shake as you approach your desk. It's entirely possible the thing will turn on, especially since Bro got the generator working. But ... No, of course there won't be any signal. While the bulk of hardware boots up you wash blood off your face, a difficult task when you're reluctant to put down your sword.

Behind you, there is the pinging of someone pestering you. Your heart jumps a beat. Maybe it's John. or Rose, or - 

"Dave?" 

It's one of the few times you remove your shades voluntarily, but you have to be sure that you're not just hallucinating, that it's not just a smudge on the glass. But no. Covered in blood, his eyes fogged over with death, is Karkat Vantas. One of his stubby-fingered hands is holding what you can only assume to be his intestines in his stomach. 

No. 

At first you think that maybe, just maybe, you were hearing things. Because zombies don't talk. You've heard them groan and whine and mumble gibberish, and even scream when your sword gets stuck in their throat; but they don't talk. 

"Dave. Help." 

You can't find the words to say anything out loud. Instead you collapse into the chair at your desk and hunch over the keys, trying desperately not to meet the cold eyes on the computer screen. 

_TG: karkat?_

You watch as, painfully slow, Karkat types out a response with one hand. As he does so you glance nervously behind you, expecting to see Bro in the doorway. You can't let him know how much your eyes are burning, or why your face is flushed with suppressed emotion. 

_CG: I'M NOT LIKE THEM .... I SWEAR._

Looking at him it was hard to believe that, with the blood dripping from his lips. Was it his? Or had he just made someone else into a meal? You rub at your face, trying to think. "W..where you at, KK?" 

He's grinning and you can see the blood in his teeth. It's bright red right now - his. How many times had he obsessed over keeping his blood color hidden? Karkat looked behind him for a moment, as if he'd heard something. "A couple blocks away. John had a map."

Your heart skips. "Where is John?" 

The grin looks more forced. Somehow you thought Karkat would be so much louder, it's strange to hear him talk in this hoarse whisper. Only now do you realize you've never really heard Karkat talk. "John's right, you do have that dumb Texas twang." 

"Karkat." Your hands are sweating, which seems silly. Even when the stupid, stumbling zombie of your neighbor came staggering up the stairwell you were level-headed. "Where's John?"

He just looks at you, the smile gone, lips pressed in a thin line. Candy red trickles down his chin, making you wonder what's really going on. But that's just a distraction. Karkat hasn't said anything but you know John Egbert, your best friend in the world, is dead. You try to swallow the lump in your throat but to no avail and are forced to type again. 

_TG: im coming to get you kk_

Because like it or not, Karkat is all you have left of your friend. You slip your shades back on to hide your eyes, which is rendered useless a moment later as tears slide down your cheeks. If Karkat notices he makes no mention. 

"I'll look out the window for you, I'm facing the street. It's got a blue door. On ... " There is a rustle of paper as Karkat checks his map. "Rainer Street." 

What are you going to say to Bro when you see him? There's no way he'll let you bring Karkat in, there's no way ... You'll have to hide him. Somehow. Somewhere. 

"D-Dave?" 

"Ya?" You're occupied getting your things together, along with the first aide kit for Karkat and whatever else you can find. 

"I think ... someone's here." 

But that's not possible, you start to say. There's no one here, you and Bro have made sure of that. Bro - _oh fuck._

"DAVE!" 

You turn to the computer in time to see a glimpse of shades and that's all you need to know. Karkat is pressed up against the desk, hand scrabbling for the keyboard, and then he's screaming. With a thud, the computer Karkat was using has been knocked over, and you can't see but there is still that sound, that horrible wailing that goes on and on and - 

And nothing.


End file.
